


along the dotted line

by mapyourstars



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Coming Out, Getting Together, Jealousy, M/M, Miscommunication, Pining, blowjob, brief misunderstanding about homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:41:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,885
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23747008
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapyourstars/pseuds/mapyourstars
Summary: James and Teddy have been best mates for a long time, but living together for the past year has started to put some strain on their friendship.
Relationships: Teddy Lupin/James Sirius Potter
Comments: 18
Kudos: 155
Collections: JeddyFest_2020





	along the dotted line

**Author's Note:**

> huzzah, my second completed fic! this is literally my second ever finished piece of writing!!! party with me! ok now read it and please give me any feedback! happy jeddyfest!
> 
> again, thank you so much to the mods for putting on this awesome fest for our little group of shippers. i’m ecstatic to finally participate! 
> 
> another repeated thank you to my rockstar beta, sarah. you helped me out so much with this fic, and i’m forever grateful! the pacing would have been total shit without you. and thank you, also, for saving me from myself when i nearly scrapped the whole thing. ao;efijawoief love you! 
> 
> **title:** from “mars” by sleeping at last

“Aren’t you tired of this?”

James bristles at Teddy’s tone and the muscles in his jaw flex, his nostrils flare momentarily. He still doesn’t look at Teddy, but he does acknowledge his question with a shrug. 

“I don’t know what you mean.”

They’re in the kitchen, Teddy stood in the center with his arms crossed over his chest, James at the sink with bubbles up to his elbows and his back to Teddy. 

He can feel Teddy rolling his eyes. “James, you hate cleaning, but you haven’t stopped in over a week. What’s going on?”

They’ve been sharing the London flat for almost a year, and during that time James has developed an avid interest in the state of their dishes, the dusty crevices of their living room, long walks in the middle of the night, and noise cancelling headphones.

“Jamie.” Teddy’s voice brings him back, and James blinks himself back into focus, gives the plate in his hand a vicious scrub. “Talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to talk about. The place is a mess, so I’m cleaning it.”

The truth is, James had come home from practice last week to find Teddy on the couch with his catch of the week. He’d seen Teddy’s bare fucking arse. Literally bare. Literally fucking. And James had turned around and walked right back out because through months of  _ hearing  _ Teddy give birds the nights of their lives, he’d never had to see it.

When he’d come back to the flat a few hours later, a bit drunk and a lot angry, the girl and Teddy were nowhere in sight or within hearing distance, so James put himself to work. By the time Teddy returned from wherever he’d been—probably taking his date home and reenacting their little couch scene—James had already scrubbed the living room to within an inch of its life and retreated to his bedroom. 

Now, over a week later, a hand comes to rest on his shoulder, and James flinches away from it. “Don’t,” he warns. He steps closer to the counter and sideways a little, just enough to add more space between himself and Teddy. 

Teddy doesn’t try to touch him again, just lets his hand drop to his side. James knows it probably hurt him, the way he had flinched and pulled away, but he  _ can’t _ have Teddy close to him, touching him, not when he feels like he’s one wrong friendly pat away from falling to his knees and begging for more.

This time, when Teddy asks him, his voice is quieter but angrier. “Why won’t you talk to me? We’re supposed to be mates.”

And there it is. 

James finishes rinsing the bowl in his hands, then rinses the bubbles from his skin. He moves toward the oven to dry off with a tea towel, replaces it, and finally turns to face Teddy. He mimics the older man’s posture from earlier, arms crossed over his chest. “We are mates, Teddy,” he replies as calmly as possible, but he knows his face is anything but apathetic. He never was good at masking his emotions. “Which means I don’t want to see you fucking your witches on our couch.”

Teddy’s eyes flash with something like chagrin. “Right, noted.” He looks away from James and crosses his arms again, too. “And wizards?”

There’s a moment where James doesn’t see Teddy standing in front of him, the kitchen surrounding them, Al’s Lake District landscape canvas on the wall over the dining table. James doesn’t see anything, doesn’t hear anything but a distant roaring, doesn’t feel his nails biting into his tricep.

Teddy has never mentioned blokes or brought any home, and James’s spine stiffens defensively. They always skirt around the subject of James’s sex life, but it remains wholly unaddressed, and James absolutely refuses to get into it now. Not when he’s angry and likely to weaponize his feelings to gain the upperhand. He doesn’t want to come out just to win this battle with Teddy, especially when Teddy doesn’t (can’t) know why James is upset. 

Besides, if Teddy wants to play like he could ever bring a man home for James to find naked and panting, fine. The very idea that Teddy could be fucking other men only infuriates James more. He feels wild, dangerous, like he could sprout claws and fangs and attack these nameless, faceless,  _ fictional  _ men.

Eventually, James manages to grit out, “Don’t bring them here.”

“What?” Teddy looks shocked, and a wave of wounded navy appears at the roots of his hair and travels to the ends before disappearing, leaving his trademark turquoise. 

This is a mistake, this line of discussion, and James knows it, but he isn’t Albus. He can’t talk circles around other people and escape from the conversation unscathed. He barges in, rips himself open, and ducks out again once the need to demonstrate himself passes. 

“I don’t want to know about them,” he explains, playing into this idea of a Teddy who isn’t only interested in women. James curls his lip in distaste, as if it isn’t painful for him think about Teddy pressing his cock into some bloke’s arse over their dining table, how good the bloke probably feels with his rim stretching to accommodate the hot intrusion and the firm grip of Teddy’s big hands around his waist. The idea infuriates James because it isn’t himself he’s visualizing bent over the table. It wasn’t his naked body that had been spread out beneath Teddy’s on their couch.

As if physically struck, Teddy pulls back and hardens his features, nods. “Fine.”

James nods, too. “Great,” he says as he leaves the kitchen and slams into his room, leaving the sink full of dishes and the sponge floating around in the suds. 

Maybe Teddy will stop bringing anyone home and James can get some sleep. Or maybe James will learn to take Teddy’s dates as reminders of what they aren’t. Teddy is straight, James is too young and not even  _ out _ , and they’re friends and roommates and godbrothers. Maybe, with enough reminders, he will accept that.

\- - - - -

In the next week, James comes home late at night and leaves early in the morning. He doesn’t do anything at home but sleep and use the loo if he drank too much while he was out. He considers moving out entirely. If he thought he could deal with his mum’s looks and his dad’s hovering, he would move back home and forget this stupid attempt at being friends, first and foremost and only. Al had warned him how colossally stupid living with Teddy would be, but James hadn’t listened; Al’s “I told you so” is another thing James can’t deal with. 

Sunday comes too quickly. With the day off from training, James is expected at the Burrow for Sunday dinner, but he owls his grandparents to let them know he’s exhausted and fighting a cold, he’s sorry, he’ll be there next time, etc. It isn’t that he doesn’t want to see them—in fact, Sunday dinners are some of his favorite days because he gets to catch up with his cousins—but he doesn’t want to be around so many people who know how to read him so easily.

Unfortunately, with nothing that he actually has to do, James stays in bed too long. He oversleeps, opts for staring at his ceiling, his walls, his phone instead of getting up, and he ends up sulking until lunch time, which only serves to worsen his mood. He doesn’t do well with extended free time. 

He regrets skipping the Sunday roast when he has to make his own lunch.

He scarfs two bowls of Teddy’s cereal—overly sweet, fruity circles made for three-year-olds—before dropping onto the stupid couch in sweats and a t-shirt. It’s the middle of the afternoon, and he is restless with the knowledge that he has wasted a day  _ and  _ let a man come between him and his gran’s Sunday roast, so he thumbs through the telly stations with a violence the control definitely doesn’t deserve. And when Teddy  _ whoosh _ es in through the Floo, James’s entire body stiffens to keep him from chucking the thing at his stupid blue head.

Teddy pauses in the shuffle of righting his jacket and brushing himself off when he notices James lying sideways on the couch. “Stop glaring holes in the telly,” he admonishes. James turns to snap at him that he’s doing no such thing, but Teddy fends him off with a lifted arm, the handle of an ancient picnic basket in his fist. “I brought leftovers and probably an entire size 3 cauldron of chicken lemon rice.”

James clicks his mouth closed and softens, just a little. His gran always makes him chicken lemon rice soup when he’s not feeling well, and he feels guilty for lying to her. He rights himself on the couch, then pushes himself to standing. He doesn’t meet Teddy’s eyes as he passes him for the kitchen, and though he should say  _ C’mon, let’s heat it up _ or something to indicate Teddy should follow him, he doesn’t. It’s stupid, he knows, to test Teddy at every single moment for no reason whatsoever, but he can’t help it. He’s looking for an excuse to fight.

But Teddy does follow him, and he sets to removing a plate of Sunday roast from the basket and placing it on the table, removing the stasis charm, and getting utensils for James from the drawer near the sink, placing them at either side of the plate. “Everyone says they hope you feel better,” he adds quietly, and James feels another twist of guilt. Not only because his family is worried, but because he knows he’s being a total shit to his best mate. 

He sits down and Teddy immediately shifts as if to leave the kitchen. Without looking at him, James calls, “Wait—” He doesn’t know what to say to apologize for his own jealousy without revealing said jealousy, but he knows he has to say something. He twists his fork between his thumb and forefinger. “You can bring whoever you want to the flat,” he says eventually, “course you can. I— Just text me? So I don’t see...” He can’t finish his thought without giving himself away. 

_ Don’t let me see you giving your all to someone else.  _

When he finally looks up because Teddy isn’t replying, isn’t making a single sound, he expects to find himself alone in the kitchen, figures Teddy probably walked out before James asked him to wait, but Teddy is there, expression hard. The sight of it—pinched brows, blood red at the roots of his hair, muscle pulsing in his jaw—makes James’s eyes widen and lean back in his seat reflexively.

“Fine, not a problem.” 

Only it’s clearly a problem. James swallows down against the rising fear in his gut, the cocktail of guilt at having done something very wrong and confusion at not knowing what that was. “Teddy—”

Teddy lifts a hand and James stops immediately. Teddy is never this still, this quiet, this silently angry, especially not toward James, and James feels his hands starting to tremble as if they know he needs to run. 

“I’m not living like this. I’m going back to my grandma’s in the morning,” Teddy says, voice tight and eyes slipping away from James as if he can’t stand the sight of him.

James, for his part, gapes like a fish for a few moments, long enough for Teddy to throw him a look of disgust and march from the room, and then he’s up and hurrying after Teddy before he can think of it. “Teddy? Teddy, wait—”

“For what, James?” Teddy turns around so quickly that James runs right into his chest. He backs away hurriedly, and Teddy scoffs. “You can’t even deal with us bumping into each other! You’ve known about my sexuality for years, so I thought this would be fine. I thought we could live together and it wouldn’t be a problem, but clearly I inhaled too many fumes at some point! I can’t  _ believe  _ you’re like this,” Teddy rants, pacing a few feet in either direction while James stares with wide eyes from his spot against the doorframe. 

His jaw works a few times before he can get out, “What?”

“I get not wanting to see me fucking people, okay. That’s fair. And I’m sorry for the thing with the living room a couple weeks ago,” he tosses out, hardly pausing to look at James as he stalks back and forth, “but telling me not to bring men to the flat? Jumping when I touch you?”

James closes his mouth as realization dawns. “You’re—”

Teddy stops and closes in on him, using his extra height to loom in a way that’s certainly intimidating to people on the wrong side of the law, and is both intimidating and  _ appealing _ to James who hasn’t broken any rules other than falling nut over head in love with his godbrother. “What, James? I’m  _ what?”  _

“Not straight?”

There’s a long silence where James’s ears start to ring with the pressure of this moment. Teddy blinks down at him repeatedly.

“What the fuck are you talking about, James?”

“What the fuck are  _ you  _ talking about, Teddy?” James retorts, never one to cow before a challenge, even when he doesn’t know what’s going on.

“I’m talking about your blatant homophobia!”

“My  _ what?! _ ”

“Homophobia, James. It’s obvious that you’re extremely put off by the fact that I may be interested in other wizards, and I can’t live with someone like that. It’s 2028 for fuck’s sake, and I— Are you  _ laughing at me?!”  _

James is, he really is. He’s biting his lips to try to hold it in, but his body is shaking with the desire to really let it out. Teddy thinks he’s homophobic. He thinks James doesn’t want to see Teddy with other men because he doesn’t like the idea of two blokes fucking. It’s hilarious, it’s amazing. He lets out an ugly guffaw and claps a hand to his mouth.

Teddy looks murderous. There isn’t a hair of turquoise left on his head now, and the deep red is darkening further at the roots. 

James inhales deeply, but his mouth is still spread in a stupid grin and his eyes are watering with the force of his mirth. He holds his hands up and begs with his eyes. “Teddy, I’m not—” Another deep breath. “I’m not laughing at you,” he admits, and his face falls a bit as the reality of the situation sinks in. “I’m laughing at me.” 

He’s been trying so hard to hide the fact that he’s gay because he didn’t want the unveiling of that secret to lead to the discovery of his biggest secret: his feelings for Teddy. But he’s made himself look like a homophobic twat instead. And that’s worse. He can’t let Teddy think that of him. 

“Teddy, I’m gay,” he says, expression as serious as he knows how to get because this is important. “I don’t care if you’re interested in ladies, theydies, or gentlemen.” Which isn’t exactly true. He cares a lot. If he were a metamorphmagus too, his entire body would be flush with green envy. 

Teddy takes a step back, the metaphorical black cloud around him retreating slowly as if ready to spring back into action at any second. James watches and admires his strength, marvels at how amazing he probably is in the field, scaring the shit out of bad guys before taking them down. Teddy’s hands don’t stop moving, gesturing here and there as if he’s having a full mental conversation with himself. “Then why…?”

James stands up straight, looks Teddy full in the face, and relents. “Because I’m jealous.”

“You’re—” Teddy’s eyebrows dip then lift as he figures it out, and it’s his turn to laugh, for some reason. Why is he laughing? He’s much more restrained about it, just chuckling and shaking his head, but it hurts a bit that he just admitted to his feelings and he’s being laughed at. “Mate, we can go out and pull someone for you in ten minutes. Maybe even five if we— James?”

James shakes his head and keeps his fingers pressed hard into his eyes. What a bleeding idiot. What a sodding comedy of errors. What an unmitigated disaster his life has become. He pulls his hands away and drops them to his sides, and when he tips his head back to look up at Teddy, his eyes are wet. “I’m not jealous of  _ you _ , you prick,” he explains, his voice breaking, “I’m jealous of  _ them _ .” 

Once it’s out there, the truth hovering between them with the fragility of a spider’s web, James chokes on the relief of having let it go and sinks back against the doorframe again, shoulders slumping and head bumping against the white-painted wood. He closes his eyes, but the tears slip from the outer corners anyway. 

It almost doesn’t matter what Teddy says now. James has held on to two secrets for twenty-three years—or, well, perhaps not his whole life but for as long as he’s known them, so nine years at least—and now that they’re laid out before the one person he most wanted to keep those secrets from… He can stop trying to be something he’s not. He can stop hiding. And yes, of course, what Teddy says matters because there are various ways in which his response will hurt James, but James is so relieved to not be the keeper of those monumental facts anymore, that he feels a little bit of bliss in each shaky breath he takes. 

“James,” Teddy whispers, but James firms his lips and doesn’t open his eyes. The relief is still there, but a deep level of embarrassment is encroaching upon it, trying to flatten it out. “Jamie,” Teddy whispers again and he’s closer this time. He lifts a hand and carefully thumbs away a fresh tear high on James’s cheekbone. “Jamie, please look at me.”

He can’t resist when asked so sweetly. He would do anything if Teddy asked him like that. So James opens his eyes and finds Teddy standing close enough to touch—and they are touching. Teddy’s thumb is still on James’s cheek, and his hand soon curls, fingertips going to the hinge of James’s jaw and then the skin just beneath his ear. “Jamie,” he whispers again, and James’s knees buckle, “why didn’t you tell me?” He asks but it isn’t demanding, it’s still quiet, the words a soft breath over James’s face as Teddy leans in. “We could have saved so much time.”

There are still tears clinging to James’s lashes when Teddy brings their mouths together, feather light, just once. And when James’s eyes widen but he doesn’t say anything, Teddy does it again. James’s breath hitches, and he gets another hint of a kiss. His hand flies up to grip Teddy’s wrist, holding him in place, and he gets a kiss that lingers. His eyelashes flutter and finally close, and Teddy moves in to sandwich James flush between himself and the wall, and James looses a sound of approval. They kiss with open mouths, movements slow and savoring, their lips brushing then rubbing, breathing one another in, and when Teddy licks a quick stripe along James’s bottom lip, James surges up for more.

The kiss turns heated, desperate. Teddy has him pinned, but James has Teddy held tight against himself, hands fisted in the back of his shirt, grip flexing and shifting as his need for more makes him restless. His mind is a cacophony of  _ need, want, please more, Teddy, Teddy, Teddy  _ as Teddy licks into his mouth and fists his hands in James’s hair, tilting their heads just so. 

Insistent vibrating against their hip bones has them pulling apart and blinking at each other dazedly, Teddy’s hands still in James’s hair and James’s hands still in Teddy’s shirt. James doesn’t want to move. He wants Teddy to ignore whoever’s calling and keep kissing him, to let them live in whatever spell this is for a little longer before the world crashes down around them.

But Teddy softens his grip and lowers his hands. He keeps one cupped against James’s neck as the other pulls his phone free from his pocket and swipes to accept the call. “Hey, Harry.” Oh, his voice is quite nice after kissing. James can vaguely hear his dad over the line, but he can’t make out exactly what he’s saying. “Yeah, he’s fine.” Teddy thumbs at James’s earlobe idly, mouth tipped in amusement, and he watches James as he talks to Harry. “Mhm, he’s…sleeping,” he lies awkwardly, and James smiles weakly at him, fond and uncertain. Teddy was always shit at deceiving people, bless him, but his honesty and sincerity lend themselves toward his skills as an auror. He’s a decent lie detector even without magic. “Right, I’ll let him know. Bye, Harry.” 

Instead of resuming their frantic snog like James very much wants to, he puts a hand to Teddy’s chest to ease him back. If they go back in for more, he won’t stop and it will hurt worse in the long run. “That was…”

“Brilliant.”

James smiles lopsidedly, but his eyes are guarded. “What was that?”

Teddy’s glee fades a little. “What do you mean?”

“Until ten minutes ago, I didn’t know you were interested in men and you thought I was a homophobe,” he points out. 

“You said you were jealous—” Teddy clamps his lips closed and James’s eyes widen as his stomach plummets.

“So you thought snogging me would make me feel better? ‘Oh, James is sad because I fuck other people, let me just fuck him too and make everything okay!’ Is that it? Did you seriously think—”

Teddy steps in close to James again until they’re pressed together thigh to chest, and he puts a hand over James’s mouth. “Don’t be a tit.” When James doesn’t make a run for it or lift a knee into his groin, Teddy moves his hand away. “I didn’t mean it like that. I knew how it sounded as soon as I said it, but I swear that’s not what I meant.” Teddy presses a kiss to James’s cheek. “I’ve wanted to do that for a long time, but I didn’t think I stood a chance.”

James blinks, dumbstruck. “Why the fuck not? Have you seen yourself?” James is under no delusions regarding his own looks. In fact, he’s quite proud of his appearance and keen to show it off given half the chance, but Teddy? Teddy is a work of art. An ever-shifting, elusive, beautiful person that James knows full well he can’t keep up with. 

Grinning, Teddy can’t seem to resist kissing James again, just for a second. When he pulls away, he explains, “I thought you were straight. You never said.”

“Well, neither did you,” James counters.

Teddy gives James a look. “I came out during seventh year, Jamie.”

“You what?”

“I came out during seventh year.”

“What? When?”

“During History of Magic. Binns was droning on about some ancient bullshit that no one cared about, so I asked him to explain why muggles had decriminalized sex between two men in 1967 but the wixen community didn’t decriminalize sex between two men until 1988. He said he didn’t know sex between two men had been decriminalized at all, so I asked him how he planned to teach future students about important historical progresses if he didn’t even know about these huge fundamental changes in recent history… Basically, it led to me explaining to him that the world recognizes multiple sexualities now, including pansexuality.”

James stares, mouth open, heart pounding and, if he’s honest, dick a little bit hard in his joggers. Teddy waits for him to say something, his smile growing wider with each passing second that James just stares at him in awe. “Okay, okay,” he mumbles, pushing James’s chin up until his mouth closes. “I don’t know how you missed it. Everyone was talking about it for ages.”

Recovering slightly, finally, James shrugs. “I was a first year with my dad’s old map. I had bigger fish to fry.” 

Teddy laughs. “Right, I remember. Like breaking into the Slytherin common room, wasn’t it? I heard the Bloody Baron haunted you for weeks after that.”

James laughs too, even as he shivers. “Terrifying.” 

They fall quiet, still standing far too close for casual conversation, but it’s comfortable with James propped up against the wall. He hooks his fingers in the pockets of Teddy’s jeans, and Teddy eases in and curls a hand around his neck. 

“So this wasn’t a pity snog,” James summarizes. 

“It wasn’t a pity snog,” Teddy confirms.

“Then it was…” 

“A long time coming.” Teddy’s grip tightens a little, just enough to pull James in so that he can meet him halfway for a firm kiss. “I honestly thought you were straight and only thought of me as a friend, so I’ve just—” He tips his forehead down to James’s and looks down between them, faintly blushing. “I’ve just been burying my feelings for you because I didn’t want to lose you.”

“We’re so stupid,” James groans, wrapping his arms around Teddy’s waist. “I thought the same of you, but I… Well, I’ve been distracting myself with work instead of— of—” James’s mouth tightens again and he looks off to the side, that familiar beast clawing at his insides. 

“I don’t want that anymore, Jamie. They were just, I don’t know. Filling holes, I guess.”

James snorts, he can’t help it. “I hope you don’t expect me to fill any holes.”

Teddy pulls back, expression half serious and half amused, wholly disbelieving. “A holes joke? Really?”

“Who says I’m joking?” James retorts primly.

Knowing they’ll have to do more serious talking later, but knowing James can only handle so many minutes of intense soul-baring, Teddy lets it go for now and gives in to more pressing matters instead. He laughs and crowds James up against the wall again. “Not even my mouth?” he wonders innocently, and James immediately freezes except for where his dick takes definite interest.

Teddy lowers to his knees, green eyes locked on James’s hazel ones the entire way. Once his hands reach the waistband of James’s joggers, he says, “Jamie,” and gives the drawstrings a tug, “please fill my mouth.”

James makes a choked sound and nods, shoves at his own pants. Teddy takes over for him, hiding his smirk against James’s abdomen; he’s made James speechless, what a feat. He mouths at James’s belly button, down over the dark auburn hair beneath it, and down lower still as he inches James’s joggers and pants down to his ankles. 

Unsure what to do with himself and frozen in place with disbelief, James’s hands hover in the space next to his hips, fingers twitching as he’s bared to the cool air of the dark hallway, the kitchen light slashing against the wall across the way and over the floor near his feet, near where Teddy’s kneeling. 

Teddy looks up at James, mouth just above his pubic hair, and when James meets his eyes again, his tongue darts out to taste the sensitive skin there. James’s knees buckle, and Teddy’s hands squeeze his calves, slide up and up until his thumbs are brushing over James’s inner thighs and making them tremble. “So pretty,” he mumbles into the crease between James’s thigh and groin. 

When Teddy takes him into his mouth, James moans brokenly. How many times has he imagined this? Countless. His hands finally come to rest in Teddy’s hair, fingers carded loosely through the strands turning a hot, reddish fuchsia beneath his palms. Teddy hums in approval, and the vibrations travel the length of James’s cock, head to base and down through his legs until his toes are curling in the carpet. His fingers tighten slightly and Teddy sucks him in deeper. 

“Teddy…” James can’t help but whisper, mouth slack as he watches his lifelong crush sink over his cock, then pull back, leaving wetness along his length that he soon covers back up again. “‘m not gonna last,” he admits because, while it hurts his pride to confess, a warning is better than taking someone off guard. The admission seems to spur Teddy on because his movements pick up in pace and his hands—Merlin, his hands, broad and just a bit rough—relocate, one cupping James’s balls and the other sliding up James’s waist.

James has to look away. He drops his head back against the doorframe yet again, and this time his fingers do curl in Teddy’s hair, gripping but not directing Teddy’s movements so much as hanging on for dear life. 

Teddy works him with enthusiasm and precision, hands and mouth confident in their exploration of James’s body. When Teddy’s fingers find his nipple, James finally looks back down, a whine trapped high in his throat as he’s rubbed and plucked and twisted.  _ “Teddy,” _ he gasps. “Close— I’m close.” Teddy’s answer is to groan and shove himself down on James’s length until his nose is pressed to James’s abdomen.

It’s a matter of moments—Teddy sucking his entire fucking cock, pinching his nipples, and then dragging his blunt nails down James’s side—before James is gripping pink-red hair in his fists and coming, hot and hard down Teddy’s throat with a deep moan of satisfaction and relief. He distantly hears Teddy groaning around him as he swallows, but everything’s a bit blurred around the edges of his consciousness.

It’s stupid, probably, but as he comes down from his orgasm, James finds himself trembling and squeezing his eyes shut, blocking himself off from the sight of Teddy looking at him with a mixture of awe and possession and adoration.

“I feel…” James mumbles hoarsely before he realizes he’s overheated and trying to speak around a telling lump in his throat. Merlin, he is  _ not  _ about to cry after a blowjob. He is not. It’s impossible and stupid and mortifying— His fingers clench in Teddy’s hair when he feels Teddy start to pull away, but Teddy simply reaches up to untangle the grip in his hair so that he can get to his feet and insinuate himself against James. He makes sure to press into him, knee to chest, firm and grounding.

James keeps his eyes shut, knowing they’re wet behind his eyelids. After nearly ten years of loving Teddy silently, holding his feelings close to his chest, Teddy knows. Teddy  _ knows _ and he isn’t running, he hasn’t rejected James, and the expression on his face as he watched James come apart... James’s breath leaves him in a shudder. 

“Jamie, don’t cry,” Teddy whispers next to his ear, and James huffs, amused even as he floods with embarrassment yet again. Teddy eases back to cup James’s chin and brush kisses over his face, cheek to cheek and forehead to mouth, over his eyelashes and beneath them to catch each escaping tear. “Why are you crying?” he asks just as softly between kisses.

James lifts one shoulder in a small shrug, tears coming a little faster beneath the sweetness of Teddy’s lips. “I never thought…” He inhales deeply, blinks his eyes open. He needs to see Teddy’s face for this. He can’t miss this moment. Their eyes meet, and something in James’s chest settles. “I never thought you’d look at me the way I look at you. I never thought you’d feel...”

Teddy waits a moment for James to finish his thought, but he doesn’t mind when the rest doesn’t come. He keeps Jame’s chin between his thumb and the curl of his index finger, and dips down to kiss him. “You’re beautiful and generous and loyal and absolutely mad,” he explains, smiling small and crookedly. “Living with you has been torture.”

“Thanks for that,” James gripes.

“Hey.” Teddy pinches his chin, then moves his thumb momentarily to kiss it better. “Living with you and not getting to be with you has been torture,” he corrects. “Wondering about who you’ve been seeing but not wanting to know, trying to express myself through badly cooked dinners, seeing how sore you are when you come home from practice but not being able to work those kinks out of your neck myself…” His hands shift to spread across James’s cheeks in a barely-there touch that brings goosebumps to James’s arms. “Wanting to care for you,” he adds, voice gone soft again, his grip on James’s face firmer but gentle, cradling something so precious, “but not too much that it freaked you out.”

James holds on to Teddy’s wrists, eyes and shimmering and mouth open in amazement. Teddy maybe hasn’t been aching for him for ten years, but certainly a while. They could have been doing this sooner. They could have avoided so much tension and strain. James should have come out years ago, should have come clean about his feelings and his wishes, should have said something the first time Teddy brought someone home and James knew it was _wrong._

Sensing where his mind is going, Teddy brushes a thumb over James’s lips. “We’re here now.” James nods and Teddy smiles. “Say something.”

With all the finesse of an erumpent trapped in a pantry, James blurts out, “I love you.” His eyes widen for a split second before his face takes on an intense determination Teddy is only used to seeing when James takes to his broom. “I love you, Teddy,” James says again, this time with strength. “I’ve loved you my entire life, in one way or another, and if—” He stumbles over his words here, uncomfortable with ultimatums and the possibility that Teddy will say no, but he plows on. “I know what I want, and that’s you. I want you for the long haul. If you don’t want me— If you don’t want  _ this _ like that, then—”

The most effective way of shutting up James Potter is kissing him, of course, so that’s exactly what Teddy does now that he knows he can. He kisses James swiftly and firmly, James’s freckled, dimpled cheeks squished between his palms. He pulls back to say, clearly, so there isn’t any confusion, “I love you and I want us,” before diving back in.

They stay like that for a while, clinging to each other and kissing, barely enough space between them for breath, just gently rocking side to side. 

When they do eventually move, it’s to sleep, but there’s the small issue of them having separate bedrooms and zero inclination to part again so soon. And because one half of this new couple is James Sirius Potter, they opt for bringing their pillows and blankets to the living room and sleeping in the pile of it all on the floor instead of just picking a bed for the night. 

James sleeps sprawled over Teddy, shameless in the way he takes up space and makes himself comfortable, but still whispering, “Are you comfortable?” to Teddy every time he adjusts. Teddy hushes him and pulls him in closer, situating himself into any space that’s closer to James than he is.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you tons for reading! i hope you enjoyed. <3
> 
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